


Don't Have Sex With Your Friend's Dad (Unless He Looks Like Chris Argent)

by milkysterek



Series: #SWSWeek2017 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison Argent, Alive Victoria Argent, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Infidelity, M/M, SWSWeek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkysterek/pseuds/milkysterek
Summary: He was sure he was breaking some kind of sacred rule.Thou shalt not get diddled by a friend’s daddy- or something like that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For day 4 of Shipping With Stiles week
> 
> Theme - Stacey's Mom (Stiles/One of the adults)

Early morning light filtered through the cracked window into the smoky motel room. Empty bottles littered the mysteriously stained carpet, little baggies of pills sat on the bedside cabinet and a dusty white smudge was smeared across the nearby windowsill. Everything was quiet, save for the gentle puffs of air that passed Stiles chapped lips. 

He was on his back, staring up at the damp mottled ceiling from his position on the bed. His body hurt in long, throbbing ways but he’d had worse in his eighteen years. It was a good hurt, the sort that came after a run or a particularly good fuck. The latter was what had caused it this time.

Chris Argent was between his legs, his mouth on one of Stiles’ prominent hipbones. He sucked at it, nibbled and bit and applied just enough pressure to make Stiles hiss in pain. He should have known Chris would be possessive. Now that he had a chance to really look at the man, he wasn’t surprised. There was just something about him - something that told Stiles that Chris was the type of man to pin his lovers, consume them and make them dependent on him until all that they could think about was the older man and his thick, pulsing cock. Stiles wondered if he gave his wife the same treatment.

Part of him knew he should feel guilty; Allison was his friend - or his friend’s girlfriend at least. He was sure he was breaking some kind of sacred rule.  _ Thou shalt not get diddled by a friend’s daddy  _ \- or something like that. He didn’t feel bad, though. He didn’t feel much of anything, really. The pretty pink pills Chris had kissed onto his tongue and coaxed him to swallow had chased away any negative feelings he’d had about the experience. Not that he’d had very many anyway. Whatever. It’s not like Stiles didn’t know he was a sketchy person.

The spot on Stiles’ hip twinged uncomfortably as Chris pushed his thumb into the impressive hickey. He was smirking down at his handiwork, all self-satisfied and irritatingly full of himself. Stiles didn’t mind, though. He liked being marked, even it was by someone like Chris who his relationship with fluctuated from cold and uncaring to blatantly volatile from one moment to the next.

“Does your daddy know you’re a fag?” Chris asked before he lowered his head again and licked a stripe up Stiles’ stomach.

Stiles shuddered at the warm, wet feeling of Chris’ tongue and dampened his lips. His dad probably did know, he was the county sheriff after all. Stiles really needed to start giving the man more credit. It wasn’t something they talked about. They didn’t need to. Stiles was sure his sexuality didn’t mean shit to his dad, as long as he was happy and healthy and safe. Amber eyes trailed over to the coke stained windowsill and he wondered what his dad’s reaction to that would be.

Not entertaining Chris’ question with an answer, the boy smirked and pushed himself up on his elbows so he could look down at his lover, dark judgement in his eyes. “Does your wife?”

For a brief moment, Stiles was sure he was about to get hit. Then something twisted on Chris’ face and he grinned wickedly, lifting himself up on his hands to pounce on the boy, kissing him fiercely. Chris’ mouth was hot and tasted like liquor and cigarettes. Stiles moaned and spread his legs, the space between his cheeks still wet and open from their previous fuck.

Instead of taking his thighs in his big hands and spreading him wide, Chris peeled away and rolled onto his back, cock standing erect in the stuffy motel room air. Stiles had been surprised the first time he saw Chris naked. He hadn’t been expecting him to have so many tattoos. He also had his nipples pierced. Not that Stiles was complaining or anything.

“Come here,” Chris ordered, patting his bare thigh before stroking the rough, grey hairs there. “Come suck daddy’s cock.”

A cold shiver coursed through Stiles’ veins and the nerve endings on his cheeks were set alight, colouring his face a dusty pink. Having his sexual partner call himself daddy probably shouldn’t turn Stiles on and he thought that maybe he should examine his reaction later but not right now. There was other stuff to do now.

Feeling a rush of confidence, Stiles turned onto his front and crawled over the bedspread on his hands and knees. The mattress dipped beneath him and creaked with each placement of his outstretched hands. He thought that his movements definitely weren’t as sexy as they were in his head, what with the way he wobbled and lost balance with each plunge the lumpy, stained mattress made. He wasn’t deterred, though, and the sight of Chris’ thick, erect cock was too much to pass by.

Chris wasn’t as big as Stiles had expected, about average in length but he made up for it in girth. He was so thick that Stiles’ jaw ached just wrapping his lips around it. Chris was uncut too and that was a whole new experience for Stiles. Most of the guys Stiles had done this to - and granted, there hadn’t been a lot of them - were circumcised and a thrill of excitement shot up Stiles’ spine as he played with the older man’s foreskin, dipping his tongue in and exploring him with great enthusiasm.“Not that this isn’t fun,” Chris’ gravely voice began, raises goosebumps down the back of Stiles’ neck and over the expanse of his muscular shoulders. “But I’m sure you can do better than that.”

“Not that this isn’t fun,” Chris’ gravely voice began, raised goosebumps down the back of Stiles’ neck and over the expanse of his muscular shoulders. “But I’m sure you can do better than that.”

Looking up through his jet black lashes, Stiles let wide and innocent amber eyes gaze filthily up at his lover, the man’s cock still filling his pale cheeks, making one of them stretch and protrude out lewdly. Without hesitation, Stiles let his throat relax and slowly sunk down on the hunter, letting his pulsing erection fill him almost to the brim. He hitched his tongue, making the back of it arch up and rub against Chris’ salty tip.

Stiles couldn’t exactly feel the precum - maybe his brain was running too quickly, short circuiting from the excitement of it - but he could certainly taste it. Chris was bitter but not unpleasant and his taste was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Stiles moaned and rolled his tongue again, hunting out that escaped flavour, desperate to locate it again.

Chris let out an irritated growl that Stiles would have mocked him for if he hadn’t found himself suddenly gagged on Chris’ meaty cock.

In one fluid motion, Stiles was flipped onto his back once again, Chris’ cock still a constant, heavy weight on his tongue with the hunter’s body arched over him, casting his face in shadow. His body objected painfully as Chris’ first, punishing thrust made his tip collide with the back of Stiles’ throat and he fought the urge to gag and hurl. That wouldn’t be hot. It would be the opposite of hot. He was already feeling woozy enough as it was from the pills, he didn’t need actual vomit on top of that.

“You spend too much time thinking,” Chris purred, retracting his hips smoothly before swinging back in. The man’s foreskin slid along Stiles’ greedy tongue and he groaned, letting the muscle flatten out so he could get as much contact as possible. “Come on, baby; open up for daddy.”

Stiles willed himself to relax, forced the tension in his throat to waver and let out a slow breath through his nose. Eyelids fluttering shut, he allowed himself to submit back onto the mattress and let Chris have his way, barely wincing with each punishing thrust of the hunter’s hips.

Drool crept over the plush corners of Stiles’ lips and dribbled down his chin and cheek as Chris hammered away. His whole face hurt, his throat ached and it felt like all the skin on his lips was being scrubbed away leaving them pink and raw and stinging. Stiles moaned more in pain than anything else and lifted his hands up to Chris’ thighs. His grey hairs did nothing to hide his age but despite that, he was still firm and tight. The muscles in Chris’ thighs strained with barely contained brutality and Stiles couldn’t help but dig his nails in, slowly slide his hands up until he was cupping strong buttocks and _squeeze_. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore - they were watering way too much for that and sweat was dripping from Chris’ body and splashing onto his face - but he was sure Chris looked incredible.

“So filthy,” Chris panted, his low, growly voice beginning to strain, “Such a bad boy coming to-  _ fuck _ \- coming to sleazy motels with your daddy all to get your pretty mouth-  _ ugh _ \- fucked.”

More precum was filling Stiles’ mouth now, all salty and intoxicating. It made his toes curl and his cock twitch, balls pulling tight. He wanted to cum but it just wasn’t happening for him. He needed to touch himself - to get his hands between his legs and stuff himself full with his fingers or a toy or Chris.

One of his hands moved away from Chris’ ass and instead took his sack carefully in his palm. He grasped him, kneaded him, savouring the wrecked moan that tore its way out of the man’s chest. His other hand went to Chris’ tight hole and he pressed just his fingertip against the pucker, breaching the ring of muscle up to his first small joint.

Chris hissed, doubled over and planted his face into the mattress as he came down Stiles’ throat in thick, warm strips. Stiles tried to swallow it all but started to choke and had to physically push the blissed out Chris off of him and roll away, coughing and spluttering.

“I know I said that was how I wanted to go,” Stiles gasped, wiping the milky white drool and cum mixture from his chin, “But I was joking.”

Chris huffed a laugh, eyelids drooping as he lay naked and bare on the bed, skin red and blotchy while he came down. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh, you so owe me,” Stiles muttered and did a double take when he looked back over at the man and caught him trying to go to sleep. “Uh, I think the fuck not! Get back up and get inside me. You can’t just leave me with blue balls after I nearly drowned in your cum!”

“There’s no such thing as blue balls,” The hunter smirked and nestled his face in the manky pillow, “And I think you’ll find I can.”

Stiles whined but when that got him exactly zero attention he flopped down beside Chris, defeated. Two could play at that game and Chris would be finding out just what a bad little boy Stiles could really be at their next sexcapade.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah okay bitch I know shipping with Stiles week is over but I'm lazy and it's not my fault it's the government's so blame them and not me.


End file.
